First Snow
by Brummie10
Summary: It has been a year since Haley's death and both Hotch and Jack are still dealing with their grief. Taking Jack to his mother's grave doesn't go the way Hotch had planned. Can a sudden snowstorm and two close friends bring father and son back together?
1. Chapter 1

_Still don't own any of the CM characters; can only wish that I did. This was supposed to be done in time for the 1-year anniversary of '100' but obviously it didn't quite get there... Sorry! Hope you enjoy it now instead. Canon and characters written as if in S5. _

**First Snow**

"**He that conceals his grief finds no remedy for it" **

Turkish Proverb_**.**_

**Chapter 1. The Storm**

The red glow from the bedside clock proclaimed it to be 5:57am. To Aaron Hotchner, however, it still felt like the middle of the night. The room was dark and chilled; the late autumn sun wouldn't rise for another hour, if at all. The Washington DC area had been overcast and unseasonably cold for days and the weather forecasters were predicting that it would get worse before it got better.

Rubbing sleep-deprived eyes, the dark-haired leader of the FBI's Behavioural Analysis Unit reached over and turned off the alarm before it could shatter the stillness of the condo. It wasn't needed today anyway. For the first time in just under a year, he was taking a day off from work. Furthermore, his son, Jack wouldn't be going to school. Jessica had dropped the youngster off the night before after receiving the request from her ex-brother-in-law…

_Jessica picked up her purse from the table in the hallway while Aaron retrieved her coat from the closet. As he held it out for her, she rested a hand gently on his arm._

"_I think your idea is wonderful; you both need to be together tomorrow."_

_The agent hadn't been able to meet her eyes; he'd merely nodded and helped her on with her coat._

_Jessica had smiled sadly and let herself out. The man known to his friends as 'Hotch' watched from the doorway as she began to walk towards the main door of the complex. Suddenly she turned, calling, "Aaron? You need to stop with the guilt. You need to remember your promise to her... Tomorrow of all days..." Her voice had cracked on the final words and she had disappeared quickly out of the building, leaving him to close the door in silence._

Lying back against his pillows, Hotch sighed heavily in the darkness. Exactly one year ago to the day, he had buried the love of his life and mother of his only child.

'_Our Father, who art in heaven. Hallowed be thy name...'_

He clasped his hands behind his head and resumed his contemplation of the ceiling. Jessica was right; he needed to let go of his guilt. The profiler in him knew he would continue to be George Foyet's victim as long as he continued to blame himself for Haley's death. But to Hotch it wasn't that simple. Certainly, he held Foyet directly responsible for her murder. But he still maintained that he too had had a significant contribution to her demise, and to the hard fact that Jack had lost his mother.

Memory of the tragic events leading to that fateful day continued to plague the agent. Insomnia was a constant problem. When he did finally succumb to the fatigue, the nightmares took over. Occasionally they also came when he was awake, sneaking up on him like a tiger stalking its unsuspecting prey. This morning was once such instance. As had become his custom, Hotch tried to close his eyes against the horrific images that tormented him but it had no effect.

"_You should have made a deal..."_

Six words. Six words that echoed like an endless whisper in the recesses of his brain.

"_Do you want to see my scars..? Yours are gonna look just the same."_

Subconsciously, one hand reached under the navy t-shirt he wore to bed and fingered one of nine raised marks on his torso.

'_No. No deal.' _

If Aaron was still sure of anything, it was that. He did not make deals with serial killers. But he had never imagined the repercussions that this fundamental value would have on him and upon his family. He drew the covers up to his chin in hopes of sleep but was hit with another flashback:

"_There was a page missing from your day planner... in the B's..."_

Haley Hotchner, nee Brooks had been his high-school sweetheart; his wife. Okay, technically his ex-wife. Aaron recalled how he had orchestrated a first meeting with the blond, how things had progressed to a relationship and blossomed as he forged ahead through law school and then into a career as a prosecutor. Marriage followed and for awhile, the young couple had been happy. Then the FBI came knocking.

When he had started with the Behavioural Analysis Unit, he had known what a profiler's life entailed and had understood that it would pose challenges for his marriage, but he'd been confident he could make both work. At first he was successful. At work, he was promoted to Unit Chief while on the home-front, Haley gave birth to a son, Jack. The baby's parents were ecstatic; life was good. But unfortunately, the demands of the job began to take their toll. And with the added strain of a child, Mrs. Hotchner eventually reached her breaking point and, feeling unsupported by her increasingly absent husband, left the relationship and the marriage.

For his part, Hotch had never wanted the divorce. He loved his wife and son deeply. But he could never have met Haley's demand to leave his job because in his soul he knew that catching criminals was a part of him. He believed then as he did now that he was making the world safer for Jack; there could be no compromise. Hotch would do anything for the safety and security of his son.

And yet he hadn't been able to protect his wife from Foyet and had almost been too late to save Jack.

Despondently, the profiler turned over in bed and closed his eyes again.

'_I should have done something more to save you, Haley. I was too late and I will never forgive myself for that.'_

Hotch had very few regrets in life but this perceived failure was the biggest and most haunting. It was also the last thought in his head as he finally drifted into a restless, uneasy sleep.

'_Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done...'_

**_XXXXX_**

Putting down his coffee mug, Hotch glanced across the table at Jack who was somberly munching on a piece of apple. The pair had spent a quiet morning together, watching home videos. Over breakfast the agent had tried to explain why he had let Jack stay home from school but couldn't bring himself to use the words 'death' or 'anniversary' so had finally settled on 'mommy's day'. The youngster hadn't questioned the explanation, instead busying himself with making a special card for his mother.

Now Jack looked up at Hotch.

"Daddy? Now that we're done lunch can we go see mommy? I want to give her my card."

Hotch regarded his son fondly. "Sure, buddy. I know she'd like it."

He glanced out at the angry-looking grey sky and condensation on the window. "It looks pretty cold out there, Jack. Can you can you put on your hat and coat, please?"

"Okay, daddy."

"Good boy."

As Jack raced to get ready, Hotch rose from his chair and walked over to his desk. He opened a drawer and carefully removed a long, narrow white box. Checking to make sure its contents were safe, he closed the drawer and carried the box to the hallway so that he could put on his own coat.

A minute later Jack reappeared, dressed in his winter jacket and carrying an old stuffed teddy bear. "I couldn't find my hat, daddy." He held out the bear. "And Buddy wants to come too."

Hotch rummaged through the closet and found the wayward hat and some mitts. He pulled the hat onto his son's head, noting that Jack was gripping the bear quite tightly in one hand while holding his card in the other.

The teddy had been Haley's idea, right down to the name 'Buddy', Hotch's pet name for his boy. She had argued that the bear would be something tangible for the-then toddler to sleep with when daddy was away. The profiler put up little resistance; whatever helped his family to cope with his absences and feel secure was fine by him. He just hoped his son didn't become overly dependent upon the stuffed animal.

In fact, Jack had quickly outgrown the teddy bear. Occasionally Aaron or Haley would find it hidden under the covers in Jack's bed, usually when the Unit Chief had been away for an extended period of time or when the young boy had gotten into trouble with his parents.

In the months following Haley's death, however, Buddy had understandably resurfaced and made frequent appearances. But Hotch had not seen the bear for weeks and had hoped this was another positive sign that his son was adjusting to life without his mother. This latest arrival clearly showed otherwise. Hotch fervently hoped that Jack wasn't picking up on any vibes from his father.

His stomach knotted with unease, the agent retrieved the box from its perch on the table and ushered his young boy and teddy out the door.

_**XXXXX**_

Sitting on the bench overlooking Haley's grave, Hotch couldn't help but think how the weather seemed depressingly appropriate for the day, amplifying the sadness in his heart. The grey sky and frigid gusts of wind threatened a blast of winter. Pulling up the collar on his coat, he was glad that he had remembered to bring a blanket for the pair to sit on.

Father and son sat quietly for a few minutes. Jack clung to his card and teddy bear, his face expressionless and cheeks rosy in the cold. A snowflake landed on an exposed part of the blanket. It was quickly followed by another, then another. Hotch knew a storm was imminent and they didn't have long. He reached for the box which he'd tucked into the inside pocket of his long coat and put it on his lap.

"Jack, do you know why we're here today?"

Jack looked up at his father with bright, innocent eyes. "To see mommy for her special day?"

Hotch nodded. "But do you know why today is different and more special than the other times we've come?"

The youngster shook his head.

Removing a glove, Aaron opened the box, revealing two dried, long-stemmed white roses. He lifted one out.

"It was exactly one year ago when we said good-bye to mommy and sent her up to be with the angels. Do you remember blowing her a kiss?"

Sombrely, Jack nodded. Hotch continued,

"Well, I thought that it would be good for us to come together and blow her more kisses."

"But we can do that any time, daddy."

Hotch smiled. "Yes we can, buddy, and I know we think about her every single day. But don't you think it is nice that she can still have her own, one special day when we come to see her?"

Jack thought about this for a moment then nodded. "Buddy thinks it's a good idea too."

"That's great. Can I hold Buddy while you put a rose on mommy's marker?"

His son hesitated, still cradling the stuffed toy. Hotch tried to smile encouragingly. Frowning in a perfect rendition of his father, Jack slowly and reluctantly exchanged the teddy for a rose. He scrambled off the bench and carefully placed the dried flower on the headstone before quickly retaking his seat. Hotch returned the bear to its owner before adding his own rose to Haley's grave. It was snowing much harder now and the flakes were no longer melting when they landed on the blanket. The landscape was rapidly turning as white as the roses.

Securing the flowers against the increasing wind as best as he could, Hotch returned to the bench and started to sit down.

"Daddy, when do we get to see mommy?" asked Jack.

Hotch frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You said this was her special day where we come to SEE her. I want to give her my card."

"Oh Jack, I'm sorry, it's something we say to mean 'visit'. We can't actually _see_ her..." his voice trailed off and he took a deep breath before continuing, "But she is with us all the time, watching you from the sky with the rest of the angels. I know she's very proud of you..."

Jack's bottom lip began to tremble. "But you said we would SEE her! I want to see mommy!"

Hotch looked in horror as his son began to shake and his small fists ball together. "Buddy, I'm sorry, it wasn't what I meant. I wish I could bring her to you... But you have your mommy with you always..." he put his hand on Jack's coat at the level of his heart. "Right here..."

Jack roughly pushed his father's hand away. He was crying openly now, clutching the teddy bear and card to his chest.

"Daddy, you SAID we'd see her! I want mommy! I want mommy!"

Hotch bent down and started to wrap his arms around the small child but Jack lashed out with his free fist, pounding the agent's chest again and again. Hotch froze, stunned. Jack had never shown anger like this before. He reached for the boy again but his son slipped out of his grasp, off the bench and began running blindly into the falling snow.

"You lied to me daddy! You said we would get to see mommy! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

Hotch's feet seemed glued to the spot and it took the normally stalwart agent a few moments to react to his son's sudden and unexpected outburst. Hastily grabbing the blanket and empty rose box, he began to chase after the small figure, who was already getting harder to see in the now-raging storm. As he ran headlong into the blowing snow, Hotch was ambushed by more memories of Foyet.

'_[Haley's] lost some weight. Must be all the stress __**you've**__ caused her...'_

The pronoun reverberated in his mind. Hotch felt an invisible vice tighten around his heart and with each echo it delivered increasingly crushing guilt. His son, the center of his existence, the one person he wanted to protect from all the world's harm and evil, was running away from him. The agent knew he would never forget the image of Jack's face at the gravesite, innocent tears streaming from his small, pain-tormented eyes. It was a pain that no matter how hard he tried, Hotch knew he couldn't lift. It made him feel helpless. But what was even worse was that he had helped cause it. His little boy would grow up without his mother and a lot of that was down to him.

Running on into the storm, Hotch saw a small object half buried in the rapidly accumulating snow. It was Buddy the bear. And for an anguished father, it lay as yet another symbol of Jack's suffering; the stab he felt in his chest was almost too much to bear. As he picked up the stuffed toy his mind went back to that day a year ago when he was forced to listen to his wife's murder before battling to the death with her murderer.

'_After I finish you, I'm gonna find that bastard son of yours, and I'm going to show him both of his dead parents... and I'm gonna tell him that it was all __**your**__ fault...'_

Aaron roughly wiped the whirling flakes from his eyes, an unconscious part of him hoping the action would also take away Foyet's taunts. But it wasn't to be. Seeing his little boy's unleashing of grief and anger had brought it all rushing back and he no longer had control over the images relentlessly passing before his eyes. Tucking the bear under an arm he scanned the horizon for his son. A small, ghostlike figure was just visible in the distance. Jack.

The haunting memories of that fateful day were unrelenting as Hotch frantically continued to carve his way between the falling flakes. It was bad enough that he couldn't seem to put Foyet behind him. But to see Jack suffer was intolerable. It must stop. The boy's tears had stabbed the agent deeper than any of the wounds inflicted on him by the Reaper. The profiler wouldn't allow a ghost to undo the healing the child had achieved nor the bond he had forged with his son over the last year. Jack's happiness was paramount and it was up to Hotch to make sure it happened. But how? Hopelessness engulfed the profiler.

Hotch felt a tear run down his cheek, burning a path on his frozen skin. He didn't know where it came from; those eyes had been dry for months. But now, in the chaos of a winter snowstorm, chasing after his little boy, he couldn't control it anymore. The wave of emotion that washed over him allowed one single tear to fall through the carefully constructed dam. So he allowed it to glide down his cheek, one single tear falling for his son, for his pain and suffering.

Suddenly, all thoughts of Foyet were brought to an abrupt halt as Hotch was jerked back to the present. Through the blizzard Aaron could see Jack, mere yards ahead of him. But he wasn't alone. A hooded figure was bending over the small boy. Even as Hotch's warning shout to his son was lost in the howling wind, the stranger straightened, Jack in his arms.

Hotch felt sick. Someone was trying to take his son!


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thanks to all who read, reviewed the first chapter, much appreciated! (Ramona: have patience... **__**) Here's the next installment...**_

**Chapter 2. Rock Bottom**

"Jack!" Hotch yelled urgently and rushed forward. He reached the pair in mere strides and somewhere in his brain registered the fact the individual had made no attempt to move but his hand was already travelling to grab the youngster... with force if necessary.

"HOTCH!"

Hotch paused, hand in mid-air, his heart still beating wildly with adrenaline, his desperation palpable.

"AARON, STOP! It's me! Dave."

**XXXXX**

David Rossi continued to hold Jack as he regarded his friend through the bombardment of snowflakes. Aaron had let his arms fall limply by his side, their contents falling forgotten into the snow at his feet. Although his face was expressionless, the younger profiler's eyes betrayed him as Dave watched his friend gaze at the little boy who had stopped crying but who had buried his head against Rossi's heavy coat. Those same dark eyes which often struck fear into hardened criminals were now filled with anguish, with guilt and worst of all, with helplessness.

"I thought that I might find you two here today." The goateed man said in attempt to break the strained silence. He started to put Jack down but the youngster resisted, his small arms wrapping themselves tightly around Rossi's neck. Dave saw Hotch wince at the reaction. Something was very, very wrong.

"Hotch?" he probed gently. "What's happened?"

Hotch slowly lifted his eyes from his son to meet Dave's. "It's all my fault."

"What is?"

Aaron didn't answer, but returned his to watching his son. His body language was of a man distraught and defeated. Rossi didn't need his profiling skills to know what Hotch was thinking. Today was the anniversary of Haley's funeral. It would be only natural for the Unit Chief to be reliving that day, the events leading up to it and, in true Hotch fashion, to be continuing to blame himself.

Dave sighed inwardly. He hated to see his friend like this but he realized that Aaron needed to let go and begin to grieve. Enough was enough. Rossi also understood that this would mean bringing out the heavy artillery, something he was hesitant to do in front of Jack.

"You know that's not true, Aaron. You didn't take her life."

"Didn't I?" Hotch's eyes became suddenly alert. "She was in protective custody because of me. That was the end of life as she knew it."

"Don't do this Aaron. You know better."

"Do what, Dave?! It's the truth."

Rossi stamped his feet, partly in frustration and partly due to the cold. "You did everything that was humanly possible to keep your family safe. Remember what I said to you back in that alley in Boston? We profile the bad guys. They're the guilty ones, not us."

Hotch crossed his arms and exhaled deeply. "You don't understand. It was my family, Dave! MY FAMILY! And I wasn't there to protect them."

Dave began to lose his patience. Shifting Jack slightly in his arms, he walked so that he stood directly in front of the younger agent.

"You know what, Hotch? You win. You want to spend the rest of your life being Foyet's victim, then fine."

Hotch glared at Rossi but said nothing. He felt his cheeks flush and blood begin to boil in spite of the biting ambient temperature.

Dave's eyes narrowed and he indicated the young boy with a slight jerk of his head. "But if you keep this up, not only will Foyet keep winning, but you'll have broken your promise to Haley. How can you teach him about love when you're doing this crap to yourself?!"

Hotch glanced at Jack, snuggled into Dave's chest and refusing to look at his father. _'What am I doing?'_ he thought to himself.

Rossi saw the slight softening in Hotch's expression. But he didn't let up. "And not only will you be failing Haley while you're so busy carrying around this incredible guilt, you'll be doing her a huge disservice in forgetting the gift that she gave to you!"

Hotch's hands began to curl into fists; he could feel his fingernails digging painfully into his palms. Dave was going too far. Who was he to lecture him? How could he possibly understand?! The Unit Chief struggled to maintain control.

Rossi didn't miss the clenching of his friend's fists and for a split second thought he was going to be punched. But he hadn't quite finished with what he wanted to say so relentlessly, he continued, "And are you so wrapped up in self-hatred that you've already forgotten that while Haley gave you time, you saved your son?" he asked harshly. "**You**, Aaron. Jack is here because of your actions... yours and Haley's."

This last diatribe was met with stony silence.

Dave changed tactics slightly and took on a more casual tone. "Speaking of actions, when did you last take time to grieve? Have you talked to anyone?"

Hotch looked sharply at Rossi. "Not in front of Jack." He hissed.

Rossi leaned forward so he was just inches from Hotch's face. "Why not?" he asked evenly. "He takes his cues from his father. Is this any example to set? Burying your grief so far down inside you that it not only disappears, but takes your soul with it... Is that what you want?"

Deep inside, Hotch knew that Dave was right. He hadn't taken time to grieve. At first he justified it by thinking that Jack had needed him to be strong. Then, as he finished his official bereavement leave and returned to the BAU, he felt that he needed to show strength to his team. But twelve months on, the first cracks in his foundation were appearing. A seasoned profiler, he knew he'd been in some sort of denial for months but had ignored it. Now Aaron was in danger of falling into 'prolonged grief' which, if left unattended, could deepen his malaise and potentially render him useless to his son.

Yet he wasn't prepared to hear these home-truths from someone else, even if that person was his best friend. Anger bubbled to the surface once more. Hotch opened his mouth and spat out some sort of reply but it was lost in a sudden large gust of wind.

Rossi stepped back to give his onetime protégé some space. Looking around at the steady deluge of snowflakes, he felt Jack shiver against him. This was not the place for an argument.

"Aaron" shouted Dave over a second ferocious blast of arctic air, "We need to go someplace out of this storm. It's freezing out here!"

Swallowing his own cyclone of emotions, Hotch looked at Jack and nodded. He took a pace forward so that his voice could be heard. "Would you mind taking Jack back to the condo? I... I need to think."

Rossi stared hard at his friend for a moment. Hotch didn't miss the connotation.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to do anything stupid."

Rossi nodded, biting back the urge to ask exactly how else Aaron would describe somebody remaining alone in a blizzard in frigid temperatures.

"Don't be long. I don't know what happened earlier, but regardless, your son needs you."

Hotch nodded briefly. He bent down and picked up the stuffed bear, brushed off the snow and wordlessly handed it to Rossi. He also retrieved the blanket and empty rose box. Then he leaned forward and gently patted the top of Jack's head.

"See you soon, Buddy. I love you."

Jack didn't move or reply. Hotch sighed sadly, turned and began to make his way back towards Haley's gravestone. Dave watched him for a few moments, a tall forlorn figure disappearing into the whirling wind and snow, then himself turned and, carrying his precious load, headed back towards his SUV.

**XXXXX**

Returning to the bench opposite Haley's grave, Hotch had just enough presence of mind to lay the blanket down before taking a seat. His face and hands were red with cold but he was immune to the pain. Placing the empty rose box next to him, he silently contemplated the polished grave marker. It seemed to be mocking him:

'_She's going to D-I-E because of __**your**__ inflated ego.'_

Aaron closed his eyes while the storm continued to rage around him.

'_Damn you, Foyet.'_

Hotch struggled with his thoughts. His mind was in turmoil. He found himself replaying that final conversation with Haley, over and over again like an old vinyl record that had become stuck.

'_I'm sorry for everything.'_

So much pain. So much suffering. He would do anything to erase it all, to be able to return the mother to her son.

'_Promise me that you'll tell him how we met... How you used to make me laugh...'_

Hotch shifted on the bench, putting his elbows on his knees and burying his head in his hands. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed a true laugh, one that starts deep down in the soul and erupts with the power of a volcano; one that represents true joy and happiness.

Almost desperately, he scoured his memory for moments of pure elation; his mind took him back to his first encounter with Haley. They had been in the same high-school. It was the end of Aaron's junior year and he had accidentally walked into a theatre club rehearsal. He had noticed her immediately. Her quick smile and kind eyes had stolen his heart and he knew that he would marry her. The teenager had rushed home to look her up in his yearbook. Haley Brooks, a sophomore. The young Hotchner hadn't understood how he could have missed her for two years, but knew he had to meet her. So he did the first thing that popped into his head: he joined the theatre club.

At the recollection, Hotch felt the faint trace of a small smile crack his wind-chapped lips. He had been the worst fourth pirate in 'The Pirates of Penzance' production but he hadn't cared. He had met the girl of his dreams and if his incompetence made her laugh then it was worth it.

The agent felt a sharp pang as he realized that Jack shared his mother's carefree laugh and easy smile. But both had been absent of late.

'_He needs to know that you weren't always so serious, Aaron.'_

Hotch tried to pinpoint precisely when he'd started to lose his humour but couldn't. He knew that the job had affected him but he hadn't thought this has extended to his home life. There could be no denying it now and the profiler knew that Haley had been right... Jack needed his daddy to show him there was a light side to life in addition to the all of the evil.

Sitting in the gathering darkness, Hotch ran his hands through snow-matted hair. His body began to shiver and he was semi-aware that his hands and feet were numb. Yet he didn't care; he deserved to suffer.

"I've failed you so many times, Haley." He murmured aloud. "You were always so much stronger than I ever was..."

Never had he ever felt so lost.

"Help me, Haley. I don't know how to make Jack happy. I can't give him what he wants most: you."

The grave, with its fresh blanket of snow, didn't reply. Not that Hotch expected an answer. But he was cold and tired. Exasperated and distraught, he suddenly and violently picked up the box which lay next to him and threw it at the small head stone.

Then he saw them. Nestled against the marble, sheltered from the worst of the storm's wind and only partially covered in snow, lay the two roses... white... symbols of eternal love. Suddenly, Hotch felt a glimmer of strength; their love could never, would never, be taken from them.

'_I want him to believe in love because it is the most important thing. But you need to show him. Promise me!_

'_I promise.'_

Aaron looked up into the whirling mass of flakes still falling. For the second time that day, he felt tears begin to well up in his eyes.

"I promise, Haley." He repeated.


	3. Chapter 3- Tears and Talk

_**Sorry for the delay... a busy weekend! Continued thanks and gratitude for all of you who have read this story... hope you're enjoying it! *more tissues***_

**Chapter 3. Tears and Talk**

Stopping in front of Apartment # 121 David Rossi temporarily let go of the small mittened hand that he'd been holding in order to dig for the spare key that Aaron had given to him a year ago. Producing it, he unlocked the heavy wooden door and gently ushered his sniffling charge inside. The youngster quickly kicked off his boots before running to his room.

Jack had been silent for most of the journey home but had started to cry softly when they pulled into the building's parking lot. Dave had tried to ascertain what was wrong but his passenger had just shaken his head and continued to cry.

From what he had witnessed and from the little that Aaron had told him over the past twelve months, Rossi thought that Jack had seemingly begun to adjust to life without his mother, other than the occasional tears and bad dreams which were to be expected. The little boy had performed well in Kindergarten and there didn't seem to be any behavioural issues. Outwardly he seemed a normal, happy five-year old.

'_He's so much like his dad... Not a big reach to assume that he's built a wall too.'_ Rossi mused as he hung up his coat. _'And all it would take is a day like today to bring that crashing down.'_

The profiler went into the kitchen and rummaged through some cupboards before finding what he was looking for. Grunting briefly in triumph, he pulled down the can of hot chocolate. He hoped it would not only warm up the child, but help him to feel better.

Moments later and carrying two steaming mugs, Dave peered into Jack's room. The little boy was lying curled up on his bed, coat still on and clutching his stuffed bear close to his chest. He had stopped crying but fresh tears lingered in his eyes.

"Hey kiddo, I made some hot chocolate to warm us up. Can I come in?"

Jack shrugged.

Rossi put the mugs down on the nightstand and took a seat on the edge of the bed. He was feeling completely out of his depth. While he had the experience of three marriages, he'd never had the chance to raise any children. And although he had come to know Aaron's son a bit better since Haley's death, he was still slightly uncomfortable being alone with the small Hotchner. Dave needed to find a distraction for Jack. He tried the first thing that came to mind.

"How about we watch a DVD? You get to pick."

Jack remained silent and turned around in the bed so that he was now facing away from Dave's concerned face. Dave was quickly losing confidence in his ability to deal with the child when he was in this state but he needed to buy time until Hotch returned so he tried again:

"Are you hungry? We can order some pizza…" _Every kid likes pizza, right?_

"I'm not hungry." was the only response.

"Jack, you need to eat something. Your dad would be upset if he knew that you haven't eaten."

Jack's brow furrowed in perfect imitation of his father. "I don't care! I hate him!"

Ever the profiler, Dave hid his surprise and asked in a calm voice, "How come, son?"

But instead of a response, Jack's bottom lip began to quiver and he started to cry once more.

Dave patted the boy awkwardly, trying to comfort him while wracking his brain for a solution. _'I think I'm going to need help...'_ The agent's first thought was of JJ, the sole mother on the team. But then he recalled that she and Will had gone out of town to visit her parents. Ok, next...

'_Maybe Prentiss is available...'_

Rossi walked back into the living-room, took out his cell phone, found the desired number and hit 'dial.' The raven-haired agent may not have become a mother yet, but her natural compassion and ability with children were unquestionable.

"Rossi? What's wrong? And don't say that you need me to come out in this storm! I already told you, I finished those files for Hotch so..."

Dave grinned to himself as Emily continued to talk. "Prentiss... Prentiss if you'd just shut up a minute... EMILY!"

The line went silent. The older profiler sighed and briefly summarized his meeting with their Unit Chief and the current state of Jack. On the other end, Emily was shaking her head sadly and already pushing her feet into a pair of boots.

"I'm not sure what you think I can do but I'm on my way. I'll be there as soon as I can... "

Sticking the cell back in his pocket, Rossi leaned back against the soft leather of the couch and tried to relax. He hoped that he'd done the right thing, both in leaving Hotch alone in the elements and in calling for backup with Jack. Well, he'd find out shortly.

**XXXXX**

Emily approached the door to Jack's room with trepidation. From what Dave had told her, Jack was not doing well. Her heart went out to the little boy. He had already gone through so much more than any child should ever endure. She didn't quite know what awaited her beyond that door but she knew she had to try to make Jack feel better. She also knew that that was usually a mother's job: help the child to understand and ride the bumps in life, no matter how insurmountable they may seem. Emily was apprehensive about being seen as trying to usurp that role. But the Hotchners needed her help and she would do her best. Drawing in a deep breath she knocked softly on the door.

"Go 'way."

Jack was still on his bed and lay with his back towards the door.

"Jack honey, it's Aunty Emily. Please may I come in?"

Emily heard quiet sniffling. Stepping into the room, she noticed the two untouched mugs of hot chocolate, as well as a crumpled piece of folded construction paper which was lying on the floor next to the nightstand. It looked like a homemade card. Her heart went out to the youngster on the bed. She approached him slowly.

"Jack? Uncle Dave is worried about you. I am too. We don't like it that you're sad. What's wrong?"

The smallest Hotchner didn't move or reply so Prentiss took a deep breath and sat down on the bed. She began to rub the boy's back, which was difficult through his winter coat. The sniffling continued for some minutes, then abruptly Jack turned around and scrambled into Emily's arms, where he began to cry openly.

"Oh sweetie, it's okay. You go right ahead and cry." She hugged him tightly, tears welling in her own eyes. It just wasn't fair. Children weren't supposed to lose their parents so early. Emily adjusted the small form so that she could rock him gently while still holding him close to her. "I know you miss your mommy, I'm sorry... It's ok to miss her Jack and it's ok to be sad because of that." She tried to sound comforting and non-threatening. "But you have soooo many people who love you: your daddy..."

At the mention of his father, Jack shook his head violently.

Prentiss was surprised. Everyone knew how much Hotch loved his son, and the extent to which his son worshipped his dad. Gently, she brushed her fingers through Jack's hair, which seemed to soothe him a little.

"So you're mad at your daddy, huh?"

There was a nod as the crying subsided. Jack buried his head into Emily's chest. "I hate him, Aunty Emily."

Prentiss closed her eyes. The last thing this fragile family needed was a break in the newly forged bond between father and son. She exhaled quietly and said softly, "Honey, it's okay to be mad at your dad but I don't think you hate him."

Jack looked up at the raven-haired agent. "Yes I do." But his tone had lost most of its aggression. The boy's moist eyes searched Emily's for an explanation.

"When you hate someone you're so upset with them that you don't ever want to see them again. You do want to see your daddy again, don't you?" Jack stiffened in Emily's arms and his eyes went wide with horror at the thought of never seeing his father again. He quickly nodded in accord.

"Your daddy loves you very much…" Emily's heart dropped a little when she saw Jack shake his head but she went on "…and I know that you love him too." Jack would never doubt his father's love for him. She wondered what could have brought this about.

"Can you tell me why you're angry at your daddy?" she inquired softly.

There was a long moment of silence and Prentiss was about to give up and try to think of another way to get the youngster to open up when he shifted in her lap and stared with his dark, Hotchner eyes into her face.

"Because he pwomised that we could see mommy but we didn't!"

Emily was confused momentarily and Jack must have picked up on it because he continued, "Aunty Em'ly, daddy said this was mommy's special day and we would see her. I even made a card!" he sniffled looking sadly at the piece of folded paper on the floor. "But then we gots there and he said mommy was with the angels and I couldn't see her! I wanted to see mommy and he said we couldn't! He lied to me! He lied! We're not s'posed to lie!"

And then she understood. Poor Jack. And poor Hotch. On any other day, the selection of words would have been insignificant but with emotions running so high, the little boy had obviously taken Aaron's words too literally. He hid his face in Emily's chest once again as tears came streaming down his rosy cheeks.

"Jack, sometimes we use the wrong word when we talk. Your daddy didn't mean to lie."

"But he said that we'd see mommy." Jack repeated stubbornly.

Prentiss sighed and wiped the fresh tears from his face. "Yes, he did. But 'see' also means 'visit'. Like when you went to see your mommy other times. But you didn't actually _see_ her then either, did you? You just visited her resting place."

Jack's eyes never left Emily's face. She could see him processing this information, his face in a slight frown. How he looked like his father when the Unit Chief was deep in thought.

"I guess so."

"Grown-ups can be hard to understand, can't we?" the agent smiled sympathetically as Jack nodded solemnly. "But Jack, no matter what, your daddy always loves you. Do you believe me?"

After the briefest of pauses, he nodded.

Emily continued, "He never meant to upset you and he's probably very sorry right now that he did. And he would be even more upset if he knew you hadn't eaten anything since you came home. You think we could give Uncle Dave's hot chocolate a try?"

Again, the young Hotchner nodded. Emily handed him one of the mugs from the nightstand and took a sip from the other. Seconds later she was wrinkling her nose in distaste. Jack saw her expression and smiled a little.

"Jack, this is awful! Your Uncle Dave needs to learn how to make proper hot chocolate!"

Jack agreed, adding, "My daddy makes the bestest hot chocolate, Aunty Em'ly."

Prentiss drew a silent sigh of relief that her boss had, at least for the time being, regained some status in his son's eyes. "He does, huh? Will you show me how he does it?"

"Okay." The little boy slid off her lap and together they walked towards the kitchen.

As they passed the living room, Rossi raised an enquiring eyebrow at his colleague. Prentiss smiled cautiously at him and he sighed in partial relief. Crisis averted... at least temporarily.

Once in the kitchen, Emily settled Jack at the table with the can of hot chocolate, 3 fresh mugs and a spoon. The boy was spooning the brown powder into the mugs when he suddenly stopped. Prentiss turned away from the stove where she was boiling milk to find him staring sadly at the table.

"Jack, what's wrong?"

He looked at her, lip trembling once more. "Aunty Emily, did I do something bad?"

The dark-haired woman took the pan off the burner before going over to the table and bending down and taking the child's hands in hers.

"No honey! You haven't done anything bad! What makes you think so?"

Jack raised his eyes; he looked thoroughly miserable. "Daddy says that if we're good, we get the things we want. But daddy won't brings mommy home."

Prentiss frowned. "Bring mommy home? What do you mean, sweetie?"

"My daddy's a superhero. My daddy can do anything. But he won't brings mommy. I pwomise to be really good if he did that..."

Oh Lord. Now it was Emily's turn to feel out of her depth. She turned desperately to Rossi, who had come to stand in the doorway and who had heard Jack's proclamation. He shook his head helplessly, also looking distraught.

"I'm going to get Hotch." He mouthed silently and Prentiss gave a slight nod of acknowledgement before returning her attention to the child.

"Jack, honey, your daddy can do a lot of things and he would do ANYTHING to make you happy. He misses your mommy too. But..." Here she stumbled, not knowing how to phrase her next line. The blond haired boy watched her carefully. She soldiered on. "But your daddy is a real superhero, not a pretend one like in the movies. And in real life, nobody can bring your mom back."

"Not even daddy?"

"I'm sorry, but not even your daddy. If he could, he would in a second. But he can't. Just like he can't fly like Superman, can he?"

Jack shook his head and his shoulders slumped in helplessness. Outside, the raging storm continued, the wind howling fiercely. Snow was accumulating rapidly, large flakes sticking to the window in amongst the frost, blocking out the view. Emily felt the small form on her lap shiver. She hugged him tighter.

"Your daddy loved your mommy very much and he misses her a lot, just like you do."

Jack sniffed and wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "Really?"

Prentiss smiled. "Really."

"Then why doesn't he ever cry?"

Emily sighed deeply. This was a conversation she thought Hotch should have with his son; she felt out of place in that role. She wracked her brain for a satisfactory answer, noting as she did so that the room had suddenly become much darker. Strange shadows played against the walls as though they too were waiting for her response. Emily felt herself shiver involuntarily.

Suddenly, the loud sound of ice crashing to the ground startled both agent and boy. Jack slid suddenly off of her lap and ran to the window, his question forgotten as a new horror replaced it. He turned to Prentiss, his small fists clenched, his eyes wide and full of fresh tears.

"Aunty Emily, why isn't my daddy home yet? What if he's cold?! Has he runded away because he's mad at me?!" The tears were rushing down his face again. Emily rushed towards the distraught child.

Jack was shouting now, his voice full of fear and desperation and each word tore at the raven haired agent's heart. He pounded his fists on the ice-crusted window,

"Daddy! Daddy, please come home! I pwromise I won't cry anymore!

DAAAA-DDY!"


	4. Chapter 4- Forgiveness

_**Thank you all for your kind words and support, means so much! And since you asked so nicely for Hotch to return... here he is! **___

**Chapter 4. Forgiveness**

At last the savage winter storm lessened its grip upon the DC area. The wind dropped and any white flakes continuing to fall were in no hurry to hit the ground. The City's inhabitants drew a collective breath and retired to their warm dwellings; clean up could wait.

At Pine Hill Cemetery, however, there remained a solitary figure sitting stiffly on a bench. If there had been any passers-by at that time, they might have been forgiven for mistaking the man for a statue, he was that still. Snow had accumulated on his head and shoulders as well as on the blanket upon which he sat. His skin was ghostly white while the tips of his ears and nose glowed red in the frozen air.

But Aaron Hotchner was very much alive. Dark, tear-filled eyes stared resolutely at the grave opposite him. For the better part of a year, the agent had been unable, or unwilling, to grieve the loss of his ex-wife and mother to his only child. All of this was about to change. At the sight of the two white roses and remembrance of his promise to Haley in the final moments of her life, her words had finally begun to sink in. He was determined not to be the victim any longer.

Hotch had always wanted the best for Jack. And since Haley's death, he felt that this meant a show of strength. He thought that by keeping his emotions hidden that he was protecting his son. But he had been wrong; now Aaron's deep-rooted sadness was consuming him from the inside out like a cancer. And the effect was not lost on Jack. Having a father who was inherently serious didn't help matters. This combination had accumulated to take their toll on the young boy.

The Unit Chief cursed himself for not having figured it out earlier; he was a profiler after all. How many times had he talked to recent widows about their young children's possible reaction to the other parent's death?

'_Children often see death as more a separation than a permanent state.'_ He had counselled. _'You may find that your child will 'act out'. For example, he/she might go back to sucking a thumb, suddenly clinging to an old toy or simply showing anger...'_

Hotch pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. He could have, should have seen this coming. Buddy the bear was an obvious clue.

'_Damn it, I should have seen it... I should have done more to help Jack.' _

He spoke directly to the grave. "Haley, I'm so sorry. I know I've let you down. But I won't let Jack lose another parent..." he swallowed the large lump in his throat then continued, his deep voice penetrating the stillness. "I will keep my promise to you."

As the last vestiges of his vow faded into the night, he looked down at the roses and imagined that he saw Haley's smile etched into the petals.

"I miss you so much..."

And that was all it took. The crack became a fissure and the once-impenetrable dam broke apart in explosive fashion. Hot, unleashed tears rushed in a torrent down his half-frozen cheeks, mixing with the snowflakes which blew into their path. Hotch could taste the salt in those tears and they left a stinging trail but he let them fall unobstructed. His shoulders shook with the force of his grief, great wracking sobs which had finally found an outlet.

It began to dawn upon the agent that as he allowed himself to grieve for the one-time love of his life, the vice-grip on his heart loosened... just a little. Images of Haley flooded his brain; they moved in sequence as if on a movie reel: the day he had first seen her, the day they had first spoken, their first date, their wedding day, the day she had given him a son... And all the while his tears continued to fall, sometimes tumbling over each other in their haste to escape his eyes. Oh how he missed her!

All of a sudden he was back in their old house, cradling her lifeless body close to him, to his heart. He was too late to save her. But unlike on all of the other occasions where he'd relived that day, this time Hotch heard her words to him as he had agonizingly apologized one final time:

'_[Haley], I know you didn't sign on for this...'_

'_Neither did you.'_

Neither did you. She had been trying to tell him not to blame himself. But he hadn't listened... until now. It was time to let go... for Jack's sake.

'_and forgive us our trespasses,'_

_**XXXXX**_

Approaching the site of Haley's grave, David Rossi had heard Aaron's vow and saw the change in his friend's body language. He paused, ducking behind a tree, the spare blanket he'd brought tucked snugly under one arm. This breakdown had been 12-months in the making. There was no way in hell he was going to interrupt. As much as it tore him apart to watch, Rossi knew that Hotch needed this release.

'_Besides,'_ he thought wryly, _'people who have frozen to death don't cry.'_

_**XXXXX**_

The sobbing went on for a full fifteen minutes before gradually subsiding. Aaron's shoulders stopped convulsing and eventually slumped as he lifted his head and gulped in the cold night air.

"Hotch?"

The words came from behind him, soft and full of concern. Hotch straightened.

"Jack..?"

"He's safe. Emily is with him." Rossi hesitated, trying to gauge his friend. "He's worried about you, Aaron. He thinks you're not coming back because you're mad at him."

Hotch closed his eyes in self-disgust as Rossi joined him on the bench.

David continued, "Hotch, I get that you're a modest man. But you know that Jack thinks his daddy can do anything, right?"

There was a slight nod of grudging acknowledgment.

"I'm not here to tell you how to raise your son. God knows I have nothing to offer on that. But I hate to see you and Jack going through this hell. Maybe... maybe you have to let your guard down a little with him. He's a bright kid, Aaron. Let him see you upset for Haley. Let him know it's okay not to be perfect and the superhero all the time."

Hotch made no reply but Dave knew by the look on the younger profiler's face that the words had hit their target.

The two men were silent for a few long minutes. It was Hotch who broke the quiet.

"I'm sorry, Dave."

"You have nothing to apologize for."

Aaron looked down, refusing to meet his friend's eyes. "Yes, I do. Earlier... with Jack..."

"Look at me, Aaron."

The Unit Chief turned slowly so that he was facing his one-time mentor. Dave smiled kindly at him.

"Hotch, this has been coming for months and frankly, you needed it... And it's just the beginning... You know that, right?"

Hotch inclined his head. "Yes." He said quietly.

Rossi looked hard at his friend. Apparently satisfied with the answer, he pulled up the collar of his coat. "Of course, I wish you hadn't picked the coldest day of the year..." he grumbled in mock irritation.

Aaron smiled slightly, then shivered violently. He was suddenly aware of just how dangerously cold he was. Rossi had noticed too and pulled the blanket out from under his arm. He unfolded it and placed it around the younger man's shoulders.

"Come on, let's get you home. We'll pick up your car tomorrow."

The two men got to their feet. Rossi retrieved Hotch's snow-laden blanket and waited patiently while his friend paused for a moment at Haley's grave. Aaron bent down and placed a hand on her headstone.

'_I love you, Haley.'_

Then he stood and, feeling strangely less burdened, followed Rossi out of the cemetery.

'_...deliver us from evil.'_


	5. Chapter 5- Gift from an Angel

_**I can't believe our journey is almost over... this was such a hard story to write and I really, really appreciate all the encouragement...you're all wonderful, thank you! I hope this chapter does justice. **_

**Chapter 5. Gift from an Angel **

Darkness enveloped the apartment, with the exception of a dim light emanating from a solitary floor lamp in one corner of the living room. Emily Prentiss sighed heavily. Carefully she reached for a blanket that was laid on the arm of her chair and wrapped it around the precious charge on her lap. She rested her head back against the chair and closed her eyes, exhausted from the last two hours:

After his desperate outburst at the kitchen window, Jack had begun to cry once more. He had run into the living room to snatch up Buddy-the-bear, then buried himself in the soft cushions of the couch. Emily had followed him, hoping to distract the youngster or at least offer some comfort. Jack, however, was beyond comfort; he was thoroughly despondent. Thankfully, he was also so tired from the day's emotional events that he had cried himself to sleep, his teddy bear tucked tightly under one arm. The agent had been able to lift both the boy and the bear into her arms with little trouble before dropping into a high-backed chair, where she now gently stroked his blond head.

Where was Rossi? And Hotch? Emily checked her watch. She had just decided on a plan of action if they weren't back in half hour when she heard a key in the lock. She breathed a huge sigh of relief, yet didn't move. The agent didn't want to risk waking Jack until she was sure that his father was okay. But she needn't have bothered. The slight 'click' was enough to rouse the young Hotchner, who sprung off her lap in an instant, making a beeline for the door.

"Daddy?"

There was a muffled response as the door opened and Rossi entered, followed closely by Hotch.

"DADDY!"

The Unit Chief knelt down just in time to receive his son, who flew into his arms. Hotch hugged him fiercely, noting his boy's tear-stained cheeks. He felt a pang of guilt for nothing was as precious to him as his little boy and he wanted nothing more than to make him happy. Remembering his promise to Haley, Hotch determinedly pushed the negative thoughts from his mind. It was time to start fresh. Still holding Jack tightly, he rose to his feet and looked over at Emily.

"Thanks." He mouthed.

Emily smiled and nodded. She appraised her boss. His dark coat and ruby red cheeks contrasted greatly with his almost ghostlike, pale skin. There was still snow in his hair and eyebrows. He had begun to shiver.

And yet...

And yet Aaron Hotchner's eyes were burning with a life and intensity not seen by Prentiss since the team's relentless hunt for George Foyet. She glanced over at Rossi. He inclined his head and the corners of his mouth twitched. He too had noticed the change in his friend.

Emily allowed herself a brief moment of relief before her practical side was kicked into action at witnessing a particularly violent shiver from Hotch.

"Jack, let's make daddy some hot chocolate and let him put on some warm, dry clothes, okay?"

At first, Jack was reluctant to let go of his father but after receiving another big hug and an encouraging smile from his dad, he allowed himself to be put down and followed the female agent into the kitchen.

Rossi looked enquiringly at his friend, who stood motionless, seemingly oblivious to his surroundings and current state, his eyes suggesting he was lost in thought; they had not lost their intensity. The older man walked over and grasped Hotch's shoulder with just enough pressure to rouse him from his introspection.

"You okay, son?" Rossi's hand remained on its perch.

A nod followed by another fierce shiver. Rossi frowned and slightly increased his grip on his friend.

"Hotch?..

Hotch!

Come on, we need to get you warmed up. You'll need a hot shower and some dry clothes."

Hotch looked at Rossi then as his body rocked violently with yet a further tremor. Alarmed, Dave began fumbling at the buttons on the younger agent's long coat. He would be damned if he let his best friend go into hypothermic shock.

But the shiver seemed to have jolted the Unit Chief back to his senses. His face was full of renewed determination and, seemingly to Rossi, new found hope. It was there, reflected in the dark brown eyes which were looking back at him.

Rossi attempted an encouraging smile, "You want to talk about it?"

Hotch shook his head, allowing Rossi to take his coat while he managed to get his own boots off. But as the two men walked towards the bathroom and master bedroom, respectively, the younger agent suddenly stopped, causing the Italian to do the same.

"Let's just say I'm finally listening to those I care about."

Dave gave his friend a knowing look before pushing Hotch forward.

"About time." He said gruffly. But his tone carried no underlying anger.

Hotch grinned wryly. "I'm grateful you didn't offer me your gun again."

"Nah, like you told me in Boston, it was a bit dramatic. Besides, those things can be unreliable in such frigid temperatures."

Hotch extended his hand and Rossi clasped it firmly, pulling the younger man into a rough embrace.

"Thanks for everything, Dave."

"Anytime."

Hotch nodded his gratitude. "I can take it from here."

Rossi grinned impishly. "Hope so. If you're not out in 10, I'm sending in Jack... or maybe Prentiss..."

Chuckling at the glare he received at his last remark, David Rossi headed back towards the kitchen, feeling that his friend was finally beginning to let go of his guilt and start the process of healing.

_**XXXXX**_

Half an hour later, the three agents sat at Hotch's kitchen table nursing steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Jack sat on his dad's lap, giggling loudly at the white sticky line of marshmallow across his father's lip. To the Unit Chief, this sound was nothing short of heavenly. He knew he would do whatever it took to hear it regularly. He reached for his napkin, which was lying on the table.

"Daddy?"

Hotch finished wiping his lip and looked at his son. Jack looked suddenly sombre. Hotch's heart missed a beat with apprehension but he tried to look encouraging.

"Yes, buddy?"

"I'm sorry for making you mad..."

Hotch pulled the young boy closer, hugging him tightly. "Jack, you didn't make me angry. I was just scared when you ran off. But I'm very sorry if I made you think that I was staying away because I was mad at you. I wasn't. I love you..."

Here, the Unit Chief swallowed hard but he managed to continue. "Sometimes, buddy... sometimes I just get sad thinking about your mom... I don't mean to upset you."

"I know, Daddy."

"You do?"

Jack nodded, his face as serious as his father's. "Uh huh. Aunty Emily hewlped me. She tolds me that no matter how hard you twry, you're a REAL superhero so you can't bring mommy back."

Hotch looked over at Emily, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Emily shrugged easily. "Jack and I were having a talk about grief and being sad and how everyone handles things a little differently. And how no matter how hard we wish, sometimes we just can't make that wish come true. Right, Jack?"

Jack bobbed his head in agreement. "And Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry I cryded..."

But the young Hotchner didn't get the rest of his sentence out; his father cut him off almost instantly.

"Jack, you NEVER have to apologize for crying. Never! Crying is a very natural thing to do when we're sad."

Jack's brow furrowed and a look of confusion flitted across his face. "Then why don't YOU cry?"

Hotch thought of all the months where he had bottled his grief, thinking that he needed to be strong for his son. He glanced up and met Rossi's knowing gaze. Dave was right; he needed to show more emotion around his young boy.

Hotch took a deep breath and looked directly into Jack's eyes, eyes that so closely matched his own.

"Buddy, I'm not perfect. I'm not very good at crying when I'm sad but maybe we can learn together."

Jack smiled at the idea. "Okay, Daddy."

Hotch brushed back some hair from Jack's face and allowed himself a slight smile too. "I'm proud of you, Buddy. And I love you."

"I love you too."

There was silence for a moment. Rossi and Prentiss exchanged a glance, both feeling like intruders in the father-son conversation. Rossi decided that some levity was needed. With a glint in his eye, he placed a hand on Jack's arm.

"Well I don't know about you Hotchners, but in the Rossi house, we always laugh after we cry."

Jack turned his head to look at the older agent. "You do?"

"Uh huh. It reminds us Italians that it's okay to be happy, even during sad times."

Jack still looked confused but Rossi continued, undeterred.

"Come on, Jack, I'll show you. We'll start by..." here, he leaned over and whispered into the boy's ear.

The grin that appeared on Jack's face stretched from one ear to the other. Eagerly, he put his hands on his dad's stomach and began to tickle. Taken a little by surprise, Hotch laughed. Easily he lifted Jack and flipped him over so that he was lying on his back on the Unit Chief's lap.

"Now I've got you!" he cried, tickling the small exposed tummy. Jack squealed in delight.

Emily watched father and son. She felt gratitude and a certain sense of relief. This family had been through so much pain and suffering over the better part of a year, it was good to see them enjoy some genuine happiness. She glanced over at Rossi, who was also watching the pair. He wore a satisfied look on his face.

Unobtrusively, Prentiss got up from the table and went to stand in front of the kitchen window. The winter storm had indeed past and left behind a beautiful snow covered landscape which glistened white under the warm, orange glow of the apartment complex lights. All was calm.

Prentiss looked back at the table. Hotch had moved to the floor. Jack sat upon the agent, giggling as they continued their 'tickling battle'. Rossi was egging on the youngster. The raven-haired agent grinned inwardly. Perhaps the worst of **this** tragic storm had also passed. Maybe now the Hotchners could begin to move forward, to be happy. Prentiss dearly hoped so.

"Aunty Em'ly, whatcha doing?" Emily was jolted back from her thoughts to find the tickling had stopped and Jack standing beside her. She crouched down to meet his inquisitive gaze. Prentiss saw features of both Haley and Hotch in the innocent face, now ruby red from all his excitement.

"I was just thinking how pretty all the fresh snow looks now that the storm is over. And how glad I am to be warm and having hot chocolate with you!"

As she spoke, she happened to look over at Hotch and thought she saw something in his face change, but it was gone in an instant. Her profiling skills read conflict... a mix of pleasure tinged with sorrow.

"Hotch?" she asked, "everything okay?"

Hotch nodded but it took a moment before he spoke.

"Haley always loved the first snow of the year..."

At the sound of his mother's name, Jack came back to the table, all of his focus on his dad.

"Why, Daddy?"

Hotch lifted his son onto his lap.

"Your mom said that it was magical."

Jack's eyes widened.

"Magic snow?!"

Hotch smiled slightly.

"Sort of, Buddy. She used to say that in the first snowfall of the year, angels hand out love in every flake. And it is that love that makes each snowflake unique and special."

"Haley was a smart woman." Rossi said softly.

Hotch bent his head. "Yes she was."

Gently, he helped Jack off of his lap and went to the window.

Aaron Hotchner was not a particularly religious man, but as he looked out at the sparkling snow and observed the intricate patterns in the frost on the window, he wondered,

'_Could Haley be sending him a message? Was it a coincidence that the first snow fell today, of all days?'_

Suddenly, he had an idea. He turned and asked Jack if he wanted to help him with something outside.

"Yes!" came the enthusiastic reply.

Hotch was amused to see that his friends' were slightly less exuberant.

"We'll need you too." He informed them, emphasizing his point with his famous stare.

Emily sighed and pulled herself up from her chair. Dave muttered something unintelligible under his breath but followed the others into the hallway to once again bundle up against the elements.

A few minutes later, they all left the apartment, Hotch striding purposefully ahead with Jack trotting at his side. Rossi and Prentiss followed a few paces behind.

The small group made their way to a large 'shared' area at the back of the condo complex. It was square-shaped and surrounded by the condo building and three tall iron fences. Along the building, a row of snow-laden bushes gave privacy to the ground floor residents. A narrow path ran down the middle of the space, flanked by two lamp posts, their lights casting an eerie yellow glow in the darkness. On one side of the path, a few picnic tables were scattered haphazardly around a brick BBQ. On the other side, there was nothing but a white carpet of new snow.

Hotch stopped and surveyed his surroundings. The 'courtyard' was deserted except for a solitary grey cat, which immediately slunk into the shadows at the first sound of the humans' approach. All was quiet and still. The early evening air was crisp; the profiler could see his breath. He knew he shouldn't allow himself to get cold again but there was something he wanted to do... to show Jack. He gave a low grunt of satisfaction as he saw the perfect place. He stepped off the path into the untrodden, pristine snow and laid down flat on his back. Then he motioned for Jack to come and join him. Finally, the Unit Chief grinned at his son, extended his arms and legs and proceeded to move them as if doing a jumping jack exercise.

Jack laughed delightedly as he recognized the movement pattern.

"A snow angel!"

Hotch turned his head towards the youngster.

"Mommy and I used to make these every winter." he said, watching as Jack threw himself into his angel, arms and legs moving at breakneck speed.

"Am I doing it right, Daddy?" Jack panted.

"You're a natural, buddy."

Jack beamed.

"How about you two get up so we can actually see what you've made." Prentiss called from the path.

"And get back inside where the sensible folks are." muttered Rossi under his breath, stamping his feet in the cold.

The two Hotchners got up carefully and joined the two agents on the path.

"Beautiful." said Emily.

"Great job, kiddo!" Dave high-fived Jack.

Jack grinned and went to stand by his father, who was silent but smiling, a rare expression in recent months.

"Daddy?" the little boy pointed to the angels. "I can see mommy now."

Hotch smiled at the thought, then bent down and hugged his son tightly.

"Mommy would be so proud of you."

There was a momentary silence but this was soon broken by a slight whooshing sound, followed by a distinct 'splat' as the projectile found its target.

"Prentiss!" roared Rossi, frantically attempting to dig out the remains of a large snowball from his collar before it could send an icy trickle down his neck. From the look on his face, he was not succeeding.

Jack sniggered and the two adults laughed heartily. Hotch whispered something in his son's ear.

The youngster giggled, picked up a mittenful of snow and threw it at the older man before nimbly moving out of Rossi's outstretched arm. It too, made contact, sending Jack and Emily into further hysterics. Even Hotch was laughing out loud.

"I'm going to get you two!" Dave began to chase Jack and Prentiss, a snowball in each hand and a determined look in his eyes. Hotch watched them for a moment then turned back to the snow angels. His heart felt lighter than it had for months and somehow, Aaron felt better. He realized he still needed to give himself time to grieve, that he had a long way to go, but he was no longer consumed by sorrow or, more importantly, by guilt.

'_Maybe I'll be able to keep my promise to you, Haley. I hope I'm doing okay so far.'_

_**XXXXX**_

Later that night, Hotch tucked Jack into one side of his bed before crawling under the covers on the other. It had been his own suggestion that Jack have a sleepover with his dad. After all the emotions of the day, Hotch felt he needed to be close to his son, to know he was safe and secure. After turning off the bedside lamp, the agent kissed the top of his boy's head.

"Good night, Jack."

"'Night, Daddy."

Jack snuggled closer to his father, pushing Buddy-the-bear out of the way onto the floor.

"Daddy?" came his whisper.

"Mmmm?"

"Will the angels still be there in the morning?"

Hotch stroked the small blond head.

"Maybe... But Jack, the most important thing to know is that mommy is always with you... even when you can't see her. Okay?"

Hotch could feel Jack nod in the darkness.

"I love you, Daddy." He said sleepily. Then, blowing a kiss towards the window which overlooked the courtyard and snow angels, "'Night Mommy..."

Hotch closed his eyes, wishing Haley were here to witness their son's strength, yet knowing that in some way, she was with them and always would be. He planted another kiss on Jack's head.

"We love you too, buddy."

'_For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.'_

**THE END**

**"To appreciate the beauty of a snow flake, it is necessary to stand out in the cold." Unknown.**

"**I believe that - dreams are more powerful than facts - hope always triumphs over experience - laughter is the cure for grief - love is stronger than death"**

Robert Fulghum


End file.
